A Weekend With Watch And Ward
by MorphoFan
Summary: A frightening experience with a home invader brings Dr. Mrs. The Monarch closer to Agents Watch and Ward, on a few different levels.
1. Watch and Ward to the Rescue

"Thanks for the ride, guys," Sheila said as the Guild limo pulled up in front of the house.

"No problem, Dr. Mrs. The Monarch," Watch said, as Ward climbed out of the passenger seat and moved to open the back door for the Councilwoman.

She climbed out and pulled her Guild jacket more tightly around her shoulders.

"Cold tonight," Ward said, as he escorted her up the steps that led up to the house, pausing at the landing midway-up.

"Sure is," she said, "Monarch and Twenty-One must be freezing on that camping trip they're on."

"Ew, camping," Ward muttered, wrinkling his turned-up nose, "Watch's and my idea of roughing it is staying in a hotel that doesn't have free HBO."

Dr. Mrs. burst into laughter, and he smiled.

"Goodnight, Ward," she said, after a moment, turning and heading up the steps to her front door.

"Goodnight, ma'am!" he called, as he stated back down to the limo.

Sheila unlocked the front door to the mansion she shared with her husband, The Monarch and their henchman, Twenty-One, and closed it behind her. As she moved into the foyer she shivered, wondering why it was so cold in the house.

She looked around, and saw a pane in the window in the study was broken, and the window open, the curtains blowing in the breeze.

Before she could react, a strong arm captured her tiny waist, a knife was held to her throat, and she gasped.

"Not a sound, gorgeous," growled the ugly, unfamiliar voice, "You do as you're told, and I won't hurt you. Deal?"

She nodded carefully, mindful of the blade under her chin.

"Good girl," said the stranger, "I've been watching you for weeks, and tonight, you are MINE."

Her hand drifted toward the holster on her hip, and the knife was pressed more tightly to her throat.

"No you don't!" he snapped, snatching the gun from the holster and pressing it to her head, tossing the knife aside.

"I told you, I've been watching you. I know you carry a piece."

"You're making a BIG mistake, whoever you are," she warned as he hefted her under his arm and carried her into the living room, "I work for people who can DESTROY you."

"I'll take my chances," the drifter chuckled.

"Well," she tried another approach, "My husband will be home any second now!"

"No he won't," the intruder said matter-of-factually.

"Judging by the amount of camping gear he packed up earlier, he'll be gone for days, along with that bruiser of a rent boy."

He forced her down on the floor and straddled her, keeping the gun trained on her every moment.

"There is nobody coming to help you, sweetheart," he whispered, running his fingers over her cheek.

"And if you fight me, I'll carve you up so badly, even your husband won't want you."

She closed her eyes, and made the mental decision to obey him. If she wanted to live, she had no other choice. All she could do was try to put her mind someplace else. She'd been trained to withstand torture... this was no different.

"Cross your wrists above your head," he ordered.

She did so, and he pinned them to the floor with one strong hand. Once she was rendered helpless he laid the gun aside and began to push up the short skirt of her Guild uniform, his vile fingers brushing her thigh.

(Oh God... Monarch... I love you...,) she thought, as tears filled her eyes.

All of a sudden, the front doorbell rang, and her eyes flew open as the thug's hand was hurriedly pressed over her mouth. He hesitated for a moment, a look of panic on his face. Then he let go of her mouth, snatched the gun back up and dragged her to her feet.

"Don't get clever on me, sweetheart," he hissed as he hauled her out into the foyer, "Or I'll shoot YOU, AND whomever this is."

He moved with her to the door, and stepped to the side, out of sight, but still holding the gun on her.

"Councilwoman?" called Watch's voice from the other side of the heavy door, and the bell was rung again.

"Just get rid of him, or else...," he breathed, gesturing with the gun.

She steadied herself, schooled the look of terror off her face, and opened the door to find both Watch and Ward standing there, and Watch holding her laptop in his hands.

"You left this in the limo," he said kindly, smiling at her, holding the device out to her.

"Oh!" she said, a little too loudly, taking it from him and setting it on the table beside the door, "Thanks!"

"Everything OK, ma'am?" Ward asked, raising an eyebrow, "Your eyes...,"

"Allergies!" she said, a little too quickly, wiping the tears from her eyes, glancing at her captor as he glared at her.

"This old house... so much dust." She tried to give a halfhearted laugh, but it sounded a little hysterical.

"You're sure everything is all right?" Watch asked, narrowing his eyes.

"Oh yes, everything is fine," she replied, "I just got a text from The Monarch. He says our daughter officially hates camping."

She shrugged a little at the two agents, acutely aware of the invader who hid just out of their sight beside the door, holding a gun on her.

"Well," Watch said, "Goodnight again, Councilwoman!"

"Goodnight Ma'am," added Ward.

"Goodnight, guys," Sheila said.

The two agents turned to head back down the steps, and her heart sank as she realized her attempt at signalling for help had fallen on deaf ears.

She closed the door, and backed away toward the living room as her attacker came toward her again, brandishing the gun and leering horribly.

"Now, where were we?" he sneered.

At that moment, the door crashed open and Agent Watch flew at her attacker with a growl, tackling him to the floor.

Agent Ward came through the door right behind him and crossed to Sheila. He quickly guided her away from the scuffle and enfolded her protectively in his arms, placing himself between her and the danger.

Meanwhile, Agent Watch battled her would-be rapist, exchanging blows with the thug. The attacker raised the gun, but Watch caught his wrist in a grip of iron and slammed it against the wall, knocking the weapon from his grasp and then kicking it away down the hall.

The home invader was out of his league with Watch, and the sharp-jawed agent quickly gained the upper hand in the fight. A moment later, the drifter managed to disentangle himself from the agent and bolted out the front door.

Watch pursued him, disappearing into the darkness.

Sheila and Ward stood there in the sudden silence, the agent's rapid breathing the only sound.

"Are you hurt, ma'am?" he asked after a few more seconds, still holding her tightly in his arms as she began to tremble.

She shook her head and wrapped her arms around his middle, clinging to him, taking comfort in the solid warmth of his body.

"Why don't I call your husband?" he suggested, reaching for his cell phone.

"You can't," she said, her voice muffled against his jacket, "He left his phone here, Twenty-One's orders. They're incommunicado for survival training."

"Right," he said, simply.

They just stood there together, holding each other, Ward offering wordless comfort, and she gratefully taking it.

After a few minutes, and to Sheila's great relief, Agent Watch returned safely. He closed the front door behind him and engaged the deadbolt before striding over to her and Ward.

"Here," he said, reaching out for her, "Ward, go and do a sweep of the house, make sure that bastard was working alone."

Ward gave a curt nod and released Sheila into his partner's arms. The blond agent disappeared down the hall to check the rest of the floor.

"Are you OK, Mrs. The Monarch?" Watch asked of her, holding her tightly against him.

The events of the night began to take their toll, and she felt tears threatening behind her eyes, much to her shame. She tried to fight them down, but when Watch began to gently rub her back, she couldn't keep it in check any longer and began to cry.

"You and The Monarch don't have a daughter," the agent said softly.

"Oh God... thank you, Watch," she wept, and he held her closer, cradling her head with one strong hand.

She nestled against his broad chest, half-afraid she would die of embarrassment at her show of emotion, feeling weak for weeping in front of him.

"You're safe, now," the older agent said gently, as she clung to him, "It's all right."

Ward came jogging back up the hallway and paused to lay his hand on Mrs. Monarch's back as he passed by.

"She OK?" he asked his partner quietly, and Watch gave him a thumbs up.

"First floor's clear," Ward announced, turning toward the staircase, "I'll check upstairs."

Then the blond agent turned and disappeared up the stairs.

Slowly, Sheila got control over herself, but she still held on to Watch.

"Do you think he'll come back?" she murmured, a tremor in her voice, pulling back slightly to look up the tall agent's angular face.

"No," Watch replied, simply, "He's not going to hurt anyone, ever again."

She blinked up at him, impressed and a little intimidated by the cold, steely look in his eyes, and the clenching of his jaw. She couldn't remember ever seeing the man show much in the way of emotion.

"You mean...?" she began, hesitantly.

"I wish I COULD take credit for it," he began, with an ironic little shrug, "But the dumb-ass tried to cross the highway and ran right in front of an 18-wheeler."

"Oh, God," she breathed, with a shudder, "What about the police...?"

"Don't worry about it," he said softly.

"This sort of thing happens in Newark all the time, and nobody is going to look too deeply into the death of a violent drifter."

Ward appeared at the top of the stairs, and Watch looked up at him.

"Upstairs is secure," the younger agent announced, coming down to join them.

"Good work," Watch said, before turning his attention back to Sheila.

"Listen, Councilwoman," he began quietly, "Ward and I are going to stay here with you, tonight."

"Oh no," she began, "You don't have to..."

"I'll sleep better if I know you aren't alone, ma'am."

She relented with a nod, snuggling against his comforting warmth.

"Here, dude," Ward said, moving into the study, "Can you come give me a hand with this?"

"We'll be right back," the older agent said reassuringly as he released her and followed his partner.

She came to the doorway of the study to find the two agents moving the heavy china cabinet across the floor. They pushed it up against the wall, effectively blocking the broken window by which her attacker had entered.

"That should do until you can get that window repaired," Watch said, dusting his hands off on his black jodhpurs.

"And we'd both strongly recommend you and The Monarch invest in a home security system," Ward added, "Besides Twenty-One, I mean."

He grinned at her, and in spite of everything, Sheila gave a short laugh. But a moment later, her head began to spin, and she moved to sit at the foot of the stairs.

Ward came to her in an instant, taking her hand and kneeling in front of her.

"What's wrong?" he demanded, "Are you all right?"

"Sorry," she murmured, looking blearily up at him, "Just... dizzy all of a sudden... and fr-freezing."

"I'll get you some water," he said, getting to his feet and jogging down the hall toward the kitchen.

Watch came to sit beside her on the stairs, wrapping an arm around her.

She shivered, leaning against him. The agent unzipped his jacket a few inches, reached inside, and produced a silver flask.

"Don't tell anybody," he said, with a conspiratorial wink as he handed the vessel to her.

She gave a tremulous chuckle and twisted the attached lid from the flask, and took a sip as Watch rubbed his hands up and down her upper arms, trying to warm her.

"Whoa!" she said, coughing slightly, holding a fist to her mouth, "Jack Daniels?"

"Madame!" Watch said, with mock horror, holding a hand over his heart, "Johnnie Walker."

"Tastes like smoky paint thinner," she said, pulling a face as she took another hit, "But it does warm you up, doesn't it?"

"Always works for me," the agent replied with a grin, taking the flask back from her, screwing the top back on and tucking it away inside his jacket.

"This is so stupid," she murmured, holding her head, "I've been through more stressful situations than this... What's wrong with me?"

"This wasn't just stress, you were assaulted," the agent said gently, wrapping his arms around her, pulling her more tightly against him, resting his chin against the top of her head.

"I'm not some frail little flower," she said, "You know I'm not..., why did that creep unnerve me so badly?"

"You might have a mild case of shock," Watch said softly, "Try not to think about him anymore."

Ward returned and handed her a glass of water. She accepted it with a trembling hand, drank it down, and then took a few deep breaths.

"Feel better?" Ward asked, taking the empty glass from her and moving to set it on the table beside the door.

She nodded a little, but still leaned heavily against Watch.

"I'm so tired," she murmured, "All I want to do is go to sleep."

"I think that's a great idea," Ward said, moving past her and heading up the stairs, "I'll go get your bed turned down."

"Last door on the left!" she called after him, blinking at how surreal the situation was.

She took Watch's offered arm, and he helped her to her feet, but she was terribly unsteady. Most of it was the stress, but the Johnnie Walker surely didn't help, either.

The Guild agent seemed to realize that she was in no condition to climb two flights of stairs, and without fanfare, scooped her up in his arms.

"Can you hold on to me, ma'am?" he said softly, and she obediently wrapped her arms around his neck. He cradled her, safe and snug against his chest, as he started up the stairs for the next floor.

Watch was strong and solid, and being carried by him was strangely comforting. She snuggled against him, hugging his neck and laying her head on his broad shoulder.

He glanced down at her, his jaw clenching like mad, and she thought she heard him swallow nervously.

Smiling a little to herself, she brushed a hand across his pale cheek. His face flushed, and he gulped a second time.

"In here," Ward called to him from the doorway of her bedroom as they reached the top of the stairs.

Watch carried her down the hall and paused in the doorway. She glanced around the room, and chuckled a little.

Ward had turned down the bed-covers, and had helpfully laid out a pair of plaid flannel pajamas that she had worn exactly once... Last Christmas, when Monarch had eagerly presented them to her. And then she had only worn them so her husband's feelings wouldn't be hurt.

Watch came into the room and gently set her down on the edge of the bed. He motioned for Ward to follow him, and they both stepped out, closing the door behind them to give her some privacy while she changed.

She stripped off her Guild uniform and boots, and put on the soft, warm, comfortable, but definitely un-sexy pajamas. After brushing her teeth and washing her face in the master bath, she climbed into bed and called out to her two knights in shining armor.

"OK, you can come back in!"

The door opened, and Watch hesitantly stuck his head in the room.

"Come on in," she called with a smile, motioning to him, "I'm decent."

He chuckled nervously, and walked into the room, followed by Ward. They came to stand at the foot of her bed.

After a moment, Watch moved to the window at the head of the bed and pulled the curtains back, checking the locks and peering out into the night.

"Relax, Watch," she said comfortingly, reaching out to touch the hem of his jacket, "We're way up on the second floor."

"Right, right," the sharp-featured man said, with a quick nod, moving back to stand at her bedside.

"OK, then," Ward said, taking one last look around the room, "If there's nothing more you need right now, Mrs. Monarch?"

They moved toward the bedroom door, and Sheila felt an uncharacteristic rush of fear and sudden loneliness.

How that evil bastard had messed with her head!

She bit her lower lip nervously, not sure how to ask for what she needed.

"What's wrong?" Ward asked, moving to sit at her bedside, apparently reading her expression.

"Could you... would you mind...," she began uncertainly.

"Ma'am?" Watch asked softly.

"Is there any way someone could... sleep in here with me?"

The two agents looked at each other, and shrugged slightly.

"Of course," Watch said softly, "Whatever you need."

"We are at your service, Councilwoman," Ward added.

"Thank you," she breathed, smiling in relief.

"You grab some sleep, Ward," Watch said, moving to the door, "I'll stand guard downstairs."

"You sure?" the younger agent asked.

"Yes," Watch replied, "I'll wake you in a few hours, and we can switch."

"Goodnight, Watch," Sheila called to him.

He gave her a smile and a nod, and stepped out of the room, closing the door behind him.


	2. Someone to Watch (and Ward) Over Me

Ward had known something was wrong when she came to the door earlier, when they'd brought her the laptop. She was nervous, trembling, she had tears in her eyes...

It was only when he and Watch had started back down the steps that it had clicked.

"They don't have a daughter!" he and Watch had said, almost in unison, pausing on the steps.

He had watched his older partner's eyes widen. Watch had more years with The Guild, and was able to put two and two together more quickly than himself.

"Cover me!" Watch had barked, turning and racing back up the steps.

It was all Ward could do to keep up as Watch slammed headlong through the door and pounced on the armed intruder.

Once inside, Ward took the responsibility of keeping The Councilwoman safe, overwhelmed with relief at his partner's intuition.

Now he sat on the far side of Mrs. Monarch's bed and removed his knee-high red boots, and then his uncomfortable, buckle-laden Guild jacket, leaving only his black cowl and a skintight black undershirt beneath.

He turned toward Dr. Mrs. The Monarch, and she smiled, and patted the space beside her.

"Thank you so much, Ward," she said softly as he slid under the covers beside her, "Sorry to be so needy."

"Believe me," the blond agent said, blushing a little, "I do NOT consider this a hardship."

She laughed, and he smiled, pleased he was able to make her happy after her terrible, frightening evening.

They lay there in silence together for a long time, Ward on his back with his hands laced across his chest. Mrs. Monarch started on her back. Then she rolled onto her side. Then onto her tummy. Then back onto her side again.

"Can't sleep?" he asked softly, reaching over to lay a hand on her arm.

"Sorry," she said, rolling onto her back again and sighing, "I keep seeing his face every time I close my eyes."

She looked over at him, and he could see the hint of tears in her breathtaking, aquamarine eyes.

The Guild agent thought for a long moment, and then turned on his side to face her.

"Would it help if I... if I held you?" he asked hesitantly.

She blinked, and his heart fluttered a little. Had he crossed the line?

"I can't ask you to do that," she said softly, but her expression showed an obvious longing to accept his invitation.

"You don't have to ask," he said with a sweet smile, "I offered."

He opened his arms, and after a moment of hesitation, she slid across the space between them and nestled against his chest.

Ward closed his eyes as she snuggled against him, wrapping his arms protectively around her, automatically breathing in the sweet scent of her hair.

The stress of her ordeal caught up with Mrs. Monarch quickly, and it seemed that the moment she felt safe, she was able to relax. It was only a minute or two before her breathing evened out, and she slept in his arms.

Ward lay awake for an hour or more just holding her, listening to her breathing, relishing the fact that he made her feel safe enough to sleep.

He'd had a crush on her from the first moment he'd seen her as Lady Au Pair, all those years ago.

He was barely twenty years old, then... a baby, by super-villain standards. Brand new to The Guild, Agent Watch's apprentice and protegee. She had been just a few years older than he...

If things had been different... if he'd had more confidence and courage... if not for Phantom Limb... perhaps she may have...

Suddenly, she gasped, and her body stiffened in his arms.

Ward was pulled out of his nostalgic fantasy, his attention immediately and completely focused on the woman in his protective embrace.

She gave a small, frightened whimper, and trembled in her sleep. She was dreaming.

Her slight figure twitched in Ward's arms, and he tightened his hold around her, gently rubbing her back, his other hand nestling in her hair.

"Shhh," he breathed softly into her hair, "It's OK... I'm right here... you're safe."

She cried out again, reaching up to clutch at his shirt, pressing her face into his chest.

"I'm not gonna let anybody hurt you," he murmured, pressing his lips against her cool, damp brow, "Shhh."

She stiffened one more time... and then relaxed against him, snuggling her head up under his chin with a contended sigh. In mere seconds, she was calm and still again, soothed back to sleep by his words and his touch.

Ward melted. He closed his eyes with a happy smile on his face, and soon joined her in slumber, dreaming beautiful dreams about the sweet, lovely lady he still somewhat adored.

A few hours later, Watch leaned over his partner, and gently shook him by the shoulder.

Ward's eyes flew open with a start, and he clutched Mrs. Monarch to him.

"Whoa, easy," Watch's voice said, softly, his hand settling on his partner's brow, "Just me, buddy."

"Watch?" the younger man breathed, blinking sleepily up at him.

"Yep," he replied, "Everything's fine, but it's time for you to stand guard. I need to sleep."

"Oh right, right," Ward said, shaking off his sleepiness and carefully disentangling himself from the sleeping Mrs. Monarch. He slid out from under the bed-covers and moved to collect his boots and jacket, and then headed for the door.

"Anything to report?" he asked as Watch set about removing his own boots and jacket.

"Not really," the older man said, "Heard a rat or two... and there's a pot of coffee brewing in the kitchen, so help yourself."

"Thanks, man," the blond agent said, with a salute, "And sleep tight!"

He moved out the door and closed it behind him.

Watch finished removing his jacket and slipped carefully beneath the covers, not wanting to disturb the Councilwoman. He knew she needed rest after the terrifying assault she had been through.

He settled down next to her and was almost asleep, when she suddenly shifted in the bed.

Watch froze, waiting for her to settle back down. Instead, she moved across the space that divided them to nestle up tightly against his body.

He chalked it up to a warmth thing. It was quite chilly in the master bedroom, and she was probably just cold without Ward to cling to.

But all the same, he wrapped his arms around her and held her, a gentle smile spreading across his jagged face.

She was so soft and warm... she felt so small and fragile in his arms... and her hair smelled of green apples and honeysuckle...

He closed his eyes and dreamed of a sunlit orchard from his childhood, darting in and out between the fruit-laden trees. He was playfully chasing... someone... a shadowy, unseen, delicate figure with an unusually deep voice and blue-black hair...

"NO!"

The frightened cry jolted Watch from a sound sleep, and he sat up in the bed, every nerve jangling, instantly on the alert. As an older and more experienced Guild agent, he was quicker to awaken than Ward.

"NOOO, WATCH!"

He turned to the figure in the bed beside him. Mrs. Monarch was sobbing, tears flowing down her silken cheeks, crying out for him, but still sound asleep.

"Ma'am?" he called softly, gently pulling her up to cradle her against his chest, "It's all right, Mrs. Monarch... you're safe... I'm here."

"Watch," she sobbed, turning her head to press her face into his chest, but still asleep.

The sharp-jawed agent was torn. Should he wake her up? She needed her rest so badly... but this nightmarish state hardly seemed restful.

"Nooo, don't hurt him...," she wept.

Making a decision, Watch moved one hand to gently slap at her flawless, eggshell-smooth cheek, calling gently to her.

"Ma'am? Mrs. Monarch? Sheila?"

Saying her given name felt strange and unprofessional, but she seemed to respond to it most of all. Her brow furrowed, and she turned her beautiful face toward him.

"Sheila?" he called again, a bit more loudly, "Wake up, now. Everything's OK... I'm right here."

Her beautiful aquamarine blue eyes opened, and she looked up at him, sleepily blinking her thick lashes.

"Watch?" she breathed.

"It's me," he said, with a relieved smile, "It's OK, everything is fine."

She blinked again, and a tear slipped from her eye to run down her perfect cheek. Without thinking about it, Watch reached down and swiped it gently away with his knuckle, and she reached up to take his large hand in her small, delicate one.

"I'm sorry," she said softly, "I had a dream... that man... he had my gun... and he... he shot you..."

She closed her eyes, and more tears slipped from beneath her eyelids. Watch just pulled her more tightly against his chest, and stroked her hair back from her face with his free hand.

"It was just a nightmare," he said gently, "I'm fine."

"Sorry I woke you," she breathed, those stunning eyes opening to settle on his, once more.

"You're so beautiful," he blurted suddenly, immediately followed by, "Oh, shit..."

He immediately went red in the face, eyes wide, his heart pounding, stomach churning, wondering what on Earth had come over him.

She just gazed up at him, and then a slow, sweet smile spread across her perfect lips.

"Thank you, Watch," she murmured, "I think you're pretty wonderful, yourself."

"Thank you, ma'am," he mumbled, trying to will down the furious blush that now burned his face.

She suddenly sat up and kissed him, full on the lips, which didn't help his blush disperse at all... but did send a flood of sweet, warm, tingling joy through his entire body.

She pulled back from the kiss, and smiled up at him as he gaped at her, giddily.

"Wha...what was that for?" he asked, fumbling comically over his words.

She shrugged.

"I just realized I never properly thanked you for saving my life," she replied, laying back down, reaching up to trace his pointed features with one alabaster finger.

"You're welcome," the hardened, professional Guild agent said, as he laid back down beside her, and pulled her into his arms.


End file.
